


For Argument's Sake

by misura



Category: Psych, The Mentalist
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>To say that Lassiter had hated Patrick Jane at first sight would have been a gross exaggeration.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	For Argument's Sake

To say that Lassiter had hated Patrick Jane at first sight would have been a gross exaggeration.

At best, there had been a mild sense of dislike, upon the introduction. Lassiter believed one could take a man's measure by his handshake, and Jane's handshake was that of a man who clearly considered himself superior in both intelligence and wit to anyone else in the room.

Plus, he'd felt the need to draw everyone's attention to certain ahem rather _personal_ details of Lassiter's personal life. Really, it was almost like meeting a second Spencer, if Spencer had been better dressed and less prone to theater.

"So I hear you've got a mentalist of your own, here in Santa Barbara," Jane said, still smiling like Lassiter didn't know quite well what he was _really_ thinking, which was an insult to all of the SBPD.

"We do?" Juliet asked. She was smiling as well, but Lassiter didn't believe for a moment it had anything to do with their unwelcome guest. Juliet was simply a friendly person. _Too_ friendly, Lassiter felt often.

Jane obviously thought he had her wrapped around his pinkie. "Sure you do. Shawn Spencer?"

"Oh, no, Shawn's not a mentalist." Juliet laughed. Lassiter managed not to smirk. Take _that_ , Mister Big Shot Consultant From the CBI. "He's a psychic."

"A real one," Lassiter said, and okay, maybe there was a bit of smirking going on.

Jane's smile turned a little uncertain. "Um. You do know there's no such thing as psychics, right?"

"Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Jane?" Lassiter asked in his calm-but-dangerous tone. Intimidated the hell out of suspects.

Intimidated the hell out of Jane, too, although he tried to hide it. "Not at all, Detective Lassiter."

"Good." Lassiter leaned back, satisfied to have established who was top-dog around here, and who was merely another fake psychic with delusions of crime-solving abilities.

 

("You really do believe Shawn is psychic?" Juliet asked, once the good people from the CBI had been packed off to their crime scene - 'their' meaning 'rightfully belonging to the SBPD but wrongfully claimed by a bunch of suits and paper pushers'. Made Lassiter's blood boil, really it did.)

("Don't be ridiculous, O'Hara." Lassiter scoffed. "Everybody knows there's no such thing as psychics.")


End file.
